Learning to Fly
by alygdgrl
Summary: It's two years after the war, a year into the professional world, six months into matrimony, and twelve hours into one seriously shitty day. Hermione Granger never wanted things to be easy, but she never expected them to be this hard. As her marriage implodes and her job becomes more demanding, Severus Snape leaves seclusion to push at her limits. If only he wasn't so fucking smug.


"This is not an unusual request," Hermione bit out more harshly than she had intended. This wasn't the Potions Mistress fault, but Hermione couldn't help but resent her.

This whole day was shit. Since the start, it was one request after another at her Apprenticeship followed by Ron's sweet but rather inconsiderate lunch visit. He rushed her out of her office despite her protests of too much work that _really _could not be put off. Rather than heeding her worries, Ron waved off her words and joked that she was letting all of the stress make her even more stiff than her marathon study sessions for her N.E.W.T.s. Her skin prickled under his jab, but she forcefully smiled it off and stayed considerably longer with him than was wise in an attempt to compensate for her cavilling thoughts. She wasn't altogether convinced she was being stiff rather than responsible, but she did her best to quiet her nerves to keep the peace.

In the end, it all felt pointless. They ended up in another petty fight, as was their custom of late, over her hurried steps to floo back to the office. Ron ironically jested that she couldn't wait to get away from him, and she snapped back that she had to get back to her job. Seeing the quick shadow of hurt cross Ron's eyes, she hurried to apologize and kissed him gently before stepping into the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace. No matter how often she reassured him, Ron didn't seem to believe her support for his new job with George at the jokeshop.

She felt so _tired_. Grabbing the hem of her robes, Hermione stepped lightly over the threshold of the Ministry of Magic floo lobby and walked deftly to her small, cramped office in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. As she sat at her desk to restart her work, it was a long while before her deep breaths soothed away the tightness in her chest.

It was the late evening when she finally allowed her tired eyes to take a long rest. She closed her reference books, and sent the last owl out with a satisfied smile. Despite being only a little more than a year into her Apprenticeship, her Barrister Master had entrusted her to help with the revisions of the first Magical Land Protection Bill being put through the Ministry. It was being heralded as a momentous step towards the environmental protection of magical creatures' habitats post the widespread devastation of the War. Entire forests had burned under Voldemort's command, decimating wild creature populations and scattering centaur communities and giants alike. It was a huge step so early on in her career in a field and on a subject that truly moved her. Her smile falling, she couldn't help but wish that her husband understood.

She rushed out of the Ministry on her way to Diagon Alley once more that day, determined to get the potions ingredient Ron had fire-called earlier in the afternoon for her to pick up on her way home. Hermione had initially groused upon hearing Ron'ss request, a small voice within her whining rather loudly at how _unfair_ it seemed that he wouldn't just go and get it instead of going to dinner with Ginny and Harry. Chiding herself, Hermione had agreed. She understood Ron wanted to impress George, that he was just now beginning to establish himself after deciding a few months ago that he would not become an Auror after all. It had been a tough two years of adjustment for everyone after the war and they were simply hitting a small rough patch after the first six months of their marriage, she decided. She just had to be more patient. She needed to be more patient with herself, with Ron, and, now, with the Potions Mistress who repeated she had no more silver thyme seeds in her stocks.

Yet, despite repeating what had become her daily self-reassurances, the weight of the annoyance she felt of being unable to do even this for marriage broke her temper.

"But they are a common ingredient!" she insisted.

The Potions Mistress raised her brows and answered with clipped words, "Mrs. Weasley-"

"It's Granger, actually."

"Pardon, I thought you were marr-"

"I _am _married!"

"Mrs. Granger, then," the previously pleasant Potions Mistress scowled, "I know you are young, a famous warrior, and a brilliant witch, but you would do well to treat those around you with the respect they will no doubt offer you in return."

Hermione blushed furiously and lowered her eyes, "I'm sorry. You're right." She realized her palms were sweaty. "Could you please have an owl deliver an order of the seeds to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes when your next order arrives?"

The small witch smiled, "Of course, Mrs. Granger. I'll make sure your husband gets them delivered next month!"

"Next MON-"

"Oh, do be quiet, Granger. It's not her fault the Dark Lord set half the wizarding world on fire when he decided you, Potter, and your..._husband _were worth the bother. To be fair, his attention was probably drawn by Weasley's rather shocking mop of hair. By the by, how _is_ it being married to the village idiot?"

Hearing Severus Snapes' languorous, slithering speech, coiling with displeasure around the word husband, Hermione felt her already frazzled nerves snap

"Fuck you, Professor, and fuck this pernicious shit of a day!"

Snapes cool laugh followed her fuming figure as she stepped through the swinging door. As she turned on her foot to Apparate, it was vaguely gratifying to hear the door slam in time with her loud _CRACK _and startle a middle-aged couple strolling arm-in-arm through Diagon Alley's otherwise peaceful streets.


End file.
